


Frozen, alternative Hans scene

by spire_kite



Category: Frozen - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 02:58:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6638566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spire_kite/pseuds/spire_kite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A revision to the Frozen scene where Hans unmasks his true colors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frozen, alternative Hans scene

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't like how, the existing Hans reveal scene, they just discard Hans' entire character up to that point and repaint him as a solid black villain; just suddenly reveal that he's a standard ruthless, uncaring stock character, callously vicious, willing to do anything at all to accomplish his ends. I thought it would be more interesting to build on what we already know about him, to explain (if not excuse) his motives and put them in some sort of context. This is what I ended up with.

They kissed. Warmth pressed gently against bitter cold.

After long seconds, their lips parted. Opening her eyes, she gazed up to find him staring down at her, a drawn look on his face.

“Did it work?” he asked in a peculiar voice.

“I…what? Why wouldn’t it…” another pang went through her heart, causing her to gasp. She held up her hand; the blue tips were down to her knuckles now.

“Ahh,” he sighed, his breath warm on her face. “Well, I guess I can’t fool everyone.”

“What are you…”

“It was a lie, Anna. A con. Did you really think…no, no of course you did.”

He rose, paced to the window, staring out at the bleak, colorless harbor. “Thirteenth in line to the throne of the Southern Isles,” he said. “There was no way was I ever going to have any sort of power, let alone the crown. No way I was ever going to be allowed to forget it, either. But here.” He spun around. “Here, I could marry into power, become nothing less than a prince. A King! That is, if I could have landed Elsa. But seriously, nobody knew a thing about her! A total mystery. You were clearly the more obvious way in.”

He spread his arms wide. “And were you ever! You really were just so ready to believe, to absolutely hang on every word I said! I couldn’t have wished for better results. Honestly! Who gets engaged to someone they’ve known one day?!”

His face fell. “But then. This.” He motioned out the window, then started to pace. “All this. And you go and…You left ME in charge. Me. Just like that, you give it all, to me.” He smirked, just for a moment. “And I think I’ve done pretty good job of it so far. Considering.” His face drooped again. “And now here we are. I'm holding all the cards. I have you, I have Elsa, I have the kingdom, all hanging on my next move.”

He crossed to a chair to the right of her couch and fell into it, massaging his face. “This wasn’t the way it was supposed to happen, Anna. This wasn’t the plan. Nobody was supposed to…”

Huffing, Anna levered herself up on her elbows, looked down the length of the couch at him. “Nobody…was…what…?” she gasped out. A new chill had joined the stabbing in her heart.

He looked up; his eyes had hardened. “I won’t go back to being invisible,” he said with decision. He turned toward her. “I can’t save you, Anna. She has killed you. She has killed their princess. If I kill her, I’m avenging you. If I kill her, summer comes back. If I kill her, then I’m the hero. And I will have everything I ever wanted.”

Anna grit her teeth. “You are…NO…match for Elsa.”

He snorted mirthlessly. “And what do you know of your sister, Anna? I mean really? Do you see her as some unstoppable, unappeasable force of nature? I don’t. I see a frightened little girl, lashing out wildly, trying to keep everyone and everything she cares about away from her. She is no longer a mystery to me, Anna. And I have my way in.”

“No,” she gasped out, twitching her arm up to reach for him. “Don’t…”

He looked to the fireplace. With a clear, definite movement, he picked up a pitcher from the table and upended it over the flames. The fire spat, hissed, then withered into smoke and quiet.

“Please, no,” she barely rasped as he crossed to the door. “Please, leave her alone.”

He walked through the door, started to close it, hesitated. “It means nothing,” he said through the thin slice of doorway. “But, sorry.” The door clicked shut, then clacked as the key turned in the lock.


End file.
